


you're the ultimate

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, House Party, M/M, Podfic Available, kegstands and romcom references and jock/nerd cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 02:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: “We’ve gone to school together forever, and you’ve never spoken to me before, so.”“That’s not true,” Willy says, which means he’s definitely more drunk than he should be, because he’s supposed to be playing it cool, not bringing up ancient fucking history. “We demolished the grade school playground’s worm population.”





	you're the ultimate

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%. Please keep this work confined to fan spaces and away from the eyes of the people mentioned herein!
> 
> warning for shitty self-esteem and references to teenagers drinking alcohol.

Willy is a fucking dumbass. 

This isn’t exactly news, if you ask his teachers, or parents, or guidance counselor. He doesn’t have great grades—just barely scrapes by with a GPA to keep him on the soccer team—and even beyond that, he just… makes bad choices. He once almost go expelled for kicking a soccer ball over the rink while the hockey team was practicing, and almost broke his toe, too, because he was an idiot who hadn’t thought to change out of his slides and into reasonable kicking shoes. 

To be fair, that particular incident was as much Mitch’s fault as it was Willy’s, but still. Willy should be able to say no to dumb dares, or prepare for them with proper footwear. 

But Willy is a fucking dumbass, one who happened to luck out of severe injury and charm his way out of expulsion, because he’s a lucky dumbass with a lot of practice in charming his way out of things. 

The soccer ball thing—which Mitch affectionately refers to as ‘The Zlatan Incident’—is not an isolated example. It’s arguably a quintessentially William Nylander-type incident, and Willy only knows what quintessential means because it was the only word he was sure of on his last vocab quiz. 

Really, he’s killing it. 

* * *

Okay, it’s not  _ that  _ bad.

Willy is blonde and has a bunch of friends and plays sports, so, by high school standards, his life is pretty much as good as it gets. 

‘As good as it gets’ just isn’t that good, when you’re in high school. 

Like, okay, it’s nice that Willy doesn’t have to worry about what he’s doing with his weekends, because if there’s a party going on, he’s usually invited. It’s nice that he gets to stay out late because his parents are cool and don’t give him a curfew. It’s really nice that he gets to invite his little brother and his friends to parties sometimes, because Alex is a little sophomore who is still pretending to be above it all, but Willy knows he likes feeling like he gets to do high school things. 

It’s just also kind of weird that Alex is like, already a track star and an honor roll student and has all this potential for shit he can do after he graduates in three years, while Willy is still trying to wrap his head around the idea of a life after high school. 

He really doesn’t wanna be That Guy who was blonde and pretty and peaked when he was 18, is all. 

But that’s a worry for a different time, because right now, Willy is kicking off his senior year of high school by watching Kappy try to convince the frosh who made varsity to do kegstands, which is always hilarious.

“You all have to do it at some point,” Kappy says, like he’s stating a rule that’s been passed down to him, not one he’s pulling out of his ass. “So we just need someone to go first.” When Timmy starts to raise his hand, Kappy quickly adds, “A fresher. Lilypad doesn’t qualify.” 

“Hey,” Timmy pouts. 

“Sorry, I don’t make the rules,” Kappy lies. “And if I did, you still wouldn’t be allowed.” 

“What, because of last year?” 

“Yes,” Kappy says. “I’m not letting your foot anywhere near my face ever again.” 

“It was one black eye!” Timmy protests. 

“The bruise on his face may have faded, but the bruise to his ego will never go away,” Willy says sagely. 

Behind him, someone snorts, and when he turns around to express his appreciation for their fine sense of humor, it’s not Brownie or Dima or any of the faces he’s expecting, but— 

It’s Zach Hyman, of all people. 

Not that Zach Hyman is a particularly notable person to laugh at Willy’s jokes, aside from not really being Willy’s friend. There’s no beef there, Willy’s pretty sure; they just haven’t run in the same social circles since they were 8 years old, when they dug up worms together during recess. They stopped being friends the next year when they were in different classes, and then the smart kids started taking smart kid math and science and Zach joined them, and Willy joined the soccer team, and— yeah. No bad blood, no lost love, just one of those things. 

It’s not like they were particularly close friends, or anything. Just weird kids who dug up worms together when they were 8.

“Sorry,” Zach says, blushing a bit, and Willy realizes he’s been staring. 

He shakes his head a little, clearing his thoughts, then plasters an easy grin on his face, one he hopes is warm and makes Zach’s shoulders let out some of the tension they’re carrying. “What for, having a good sense of humor?” 

Zach still looks a bit uncomfortable, but he manages a smile anyway, and there’s a flush high on his cheeks. “Uh, more about the eavesdropping, actually.” 

“I think any conversation held by people hogging the keg counts as public domain,” Willy says.

“When did you get drunk enough that you started trying to sound smart?” Kappy says, abandoning the underclassmen and his kegstand mission for the time being. He throws an arm over Willy’s shoulders and turns to Zach. “I apologize for him, he thinks he knows how to use big words.” 

“I’m not that drunk,” Willy says, even though he does tend to whip out some choice vocab after a few drinks. He figures he might as well put all that please-don’t-let-me-fail-English cramming to good use. 

“And he did use all those words properly,” Zach says. 

“See?” Willy says smugly. “Future valedictorian says I’m right.” 

Zach looks uncomfortable at that, which Willy doesn’t quite get, but before he can dwell on it too much, Kappy’s ruffling his hair. “Yeah, well, guess having a supergenius for a little brother is starting to pay off, then.” 

“I’m telling Alex you called him a nerd,” Willy says, but Kappy’s already got his back to Willy, because Timmy’s started to climb onto the keg himself, and Kappy hadn’t been joking about the black eye. 

Which leaves Willy with two choices: help him grab the drunk sophomore whose legs are currently flailing about dangerously close to Dermott and Nielsen’s faces, or continue talking to Zach, and while Willy’s here for team loyalty, or whatever, the Zach option is a little less likely to result in injury, and a lot more interesting.

“So,” Willy says, shifting ever so slightly to put some distance between himself and his teammates. “What’s your year shaping up to look like?” 

Zach blinks, looking a little caught off-guard. “Uh, fine, I think,” he says. “Y’know, busy. But fun.” 

“What’s keeping you busy?” Willy says. “Besides the whole student body president thing, and the billion honors classes you’re probably taking— or, uh, I guess that’ll do it.” He laughs awkwardly, but Zach’s still staring at him like he’s trying to figure out if Willy’s being serious or not. 

“Yeah, it’s mostly that,” he says. “Plus yearbook, and the paper, and, y’know, applications, and I volunteer at this shelter on the weekends—” 

“Of course you do,” Willy says, and he mentally kicks himself for it. He’s pretty sure he’s not actually that drunk, so he’s not sure why he’s being all bumbly and dumb right now. Zach’s barely said anything, but he’s already made it clear that he’s more interesting than Willy will ever be; maybe it’s got something to do with that. 

“Uh, what does that mean?” Zach says, looking something between embarrassed and offended. 

“Just— you sort of do everything right,” Willy says. “As far as I can tell, I mean.” 

Zach stares at him for a beat. “I’m sorry, but— you know who I am?” 

“I— well— yeah?” Willy’s face goes bright red, and he’s full-on sputtering, now. “You’re, like, the face of the school? I voted for you? You wrote a whole article on my little brother, and, like— we’re Facebook friends, and stuff,” he says. “I— I’m Willy.” 

“I know you’re Willy,” Zach says.

“If you know I’m Willy, why wouldn’t I know that you’re Zach?” Willy says. 

“Because you’re— you, like, play sports,” Zach says. “You’re like, Sandy, and I’m pretty much Patty Simcox.” 

“What?” 

“From  _ Grease,  _ just— y’know what, never mind,” Zach says. “I’m sorry, I don’t drink much.” 

“No, I got the reference,” Willy says. “Just— if anything, you’re Sandy, and I’m, like, the dumb football player she takes to the Frosty Palace.” 

“You’re not dumb,” Zach says, graciously ignoring the fact that Willy may or may not have accidentally implied that they’re the kind of people who would share a milkshake. 

“That’s a very nice lie,” Willy says. “It’s okay, I’ve been a dumb jock for long enough, I can take it.” 

“You’re selling yourself short,” Zach says. 

Willy shakes his head. “Stop saying that, or I’m gonna do something stupid to prove you wrong.” 

“What, like a kegstand?” 

He looks over to where Liljegren’s now got two feet on the ground, while Dermott and Nielsen are hoisting one of the freshmen into the air while Kappy looks on proudly. 

“Nah,” Willy says. “My brother’s around here somewhere, I’m trying to mix in a few ounces of dignity.” 

“Is that why you’re talking to me?” Zach asks. “To hang on to some dignity?”

It occurs to Willy that Zach is the exact type of guy Willy would love his brother to see him talking to at one of these parties, a good influence in every way. He might even be a better big brother than Willy, honestly; it’s hard being a role model to someone who’s already destined to achieve more than you. 

Willy doesn’t feel particularly dignified talking to Zach, though. If anything, he feels like he’s floundering, but not in a bad way.

It’s a weird feeling. 

“I’m talking to you because I want to talk to you, believe it or not,” Willy says, and then he takes a large sip from his red Solo cup, hoping it’ll help him feel a little less off-kilter. 

“Why?” 

“Do I need a reason?” 

Zach shrugs. “We’ve gone to school together forever, and you’ve never spoken to me before, so.” 

“That’s not true,” Willy says, which means he’s definitely more drunk than he should be, because he’s supposed to be playing it cool, not bringing up ancient fucking history. “We demolished the grade school playground’s worm population.” 

“You remember that?” 

“Duh,” Willy says, flicking his hair and giving Zach a hopefully-charming smile. 

“This might sound super paranoid,” Zach says, “But I’m just— I’m afraid you’re gonna, like, pour pigs blood on me?” 

“What?” Willy says, mildly alarmed. 

“Not literally,” Zach says quickly. “But, like, in  _ Carrie. _ ” 

“Never read it,” Willy says. “Or seen it.”

“Not a fan of horror?” 

“Nah,” Willy says. “More into love stories.” 

“Well, that’s not a love story,” Zach says. “It’s about a girl who gets made fun of, and then they elect her prom queen and pour pig’s blood on her while she’s being crowned, or something? I haven’t seen it either.” 

“But you’re making the reference anyway?” 

“Well, the pig’s blood part is ubiquitous,” Zach says. “But this isn’t a prank, right?” 

“What isn’t a prank?” Willy asks, turning around to see if Kappy is doing more weird shit to scare freshmen. 

“You talking to me.” 

“How could that be a prank?” Willy asks. “What would they even do to us?” 

“Not us,” Zach says. “Just me.” 

Willy blinks. “What?” 

“You’re a jock, I’m a nerd— you know what, this is ridiculous,” Zach says. “My friend made me watch a bunch of teen movies over the summer, and now I’m afraid I’m gonna live one.” 

“What teen movies?” 

“ _ Pretty in Pink, Heathers, John Tucker Must Die,”  _ Zach says. “Also,  _ A Cinderella Story,  _ and then the Lizzie McGuire movie where she goes to Rome? It was a weird summer.” 

“Ah, yes,” Willy says. “Because  _ Heathers  _ is the best way to get someone psyched up for senior year.” 

“Don’t knock  _ Heathers,”  _ Zach says, smiling a bit. “It was better than  _ Pretty in Pink.”  _

“And not  _ John Tucker?”  _

“Would you laugh if I said it was my favorite?” Zach says, and Willy does laugh, but mostly because he’s surprised. 

“It’s a pretty underrated film,” Willy says. “I guess I understand why you’re braced for a large-scale social evisceration, though. You don’t really strike me as a trashy-teen-Rom-Com kind of guy.” 

“I didn’t used to be,” Zach confesses. “But I tried to expand my horizons. Those movies are fucking fun.” 

“For real,” Willy says, grinning. “Not the most realistic, though.” 

“They’re closer to your life than they are to mine,” Zach says. 

Willy doesn’t think of any part of his life as something that could be the subject of a movie. He plays soccer during the week, tries not to fail, parties on the weekends, and feels inferior to his little brother. 

“If only cafeteria food fights were real,” Willy says wistfully, which earns him a laugh from Zach, and then they just… keep talking for the rest of the night. 

Willy’s not the brightest, so he’s not used to holding his own in a conversation with someone who’s objectively, like, hella smart, but Zach’s apparently dumbed-down enough by alcohol that he seems to find Willy hilarious, and every time Zach smiles, it makes Willy’s stomach do something kind of awesome, if a little terrifying at the same time. A part of him thinks that, if they were in college—or if Willy trusted himself to break the rhythm of this conversation for even a second—he’d ask Zach if he wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere quieter. They could go to the diner and get food and coffee and keep talking, and Willy could marvel at the flashes of insecurity that Zach seems to be so embarrassed by, and it would be nice, except Willy’s— 

Maybe in a world where Willy was a smart guy who read books and knew words, he could come up with a better way to say it, but he’s… nervous, and kind of afraid, so he keeps his feet planted whenever they’re not drifting together, finishes his drink, then turns his plastic cup into fringe that he starts trying to weave into something, even though it never works. 

The part of it that’s weirdest is that Willy has never felt so out of his element and totally engrossed at the same time, and it’s almost heightened, the kind of thing that feels like a big deal, even though it won’t be after this conversation ends. 

Eventually, Zach’s phone alarm goes off, which startles him enough that he drops his empty cup to the ground, and he takes off to make it home before curfew, and Willy doesn’t even think about staying once he’s gone, just finds Alex and lets him know that he’s heading home. 

He figures the Zach thing won’t come up again—they didn’t exchange numbers, or even promise to talk again in an abstract sort of way—-but it was a nice party, Willy thinks. 

Maybe the most fun he’s ever had at a party. 

He falls asleep easily that night, almost sober and grinning wide. 

**Author's Note:**

> idk i might continue this? we'll see, i had a bit more planned out but i like the way this works as a standalone an awful lot. pls know that in this 'verse mitch marner plays volleyball, auston matthews is the new kid who transfers senior year, and kyle dubas is willy's english teacher. tbh this happened because i watched tatbilb and got thinking about the way high schoolers envision themselves vs. the way their peers see them.
> 
> i'm lottswrites on tumblr!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] you're the ultimate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129105) by [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery)




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